


Tear Yourself To Pieces

by CastielDoesntFeelLikeDancin



Series: Youth Knows No Pain Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Counseling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Feminist Themes, Getting Back Together, Healing, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Medications, New Friendships, Obsessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Siblings, Sad, Self-Harm, Separations, Starting Over, fem!destiel, gay as fuck, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielDoesntFeelLikeDancin/pseuds/CastielDoesntFeelLikeDancin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Dearest Deanna Winchester,<br/>When we met, I didn't think you were real.<br/>You were too perfect, too godlike, too poetic and lovely.<br/>Finally, when I was absolutely sure that you were as true as flesh and blood, my demons had to come and take me away from you.<br/>Then, when I was finally able to come back into your life, truly be yours, and even fall in love with you, it happened again.<br/>I don't know why, and it isn't fair, and believe me, I wish I could stay, love.<br/>In fact, I want nothing more.<br/>I have no doubt that the pain I will already have to endure will be worse now that I know I can't see you anymore.<br/>I don't know why I have to leave you now that we were finally starting to trust each other again.<br/>Remember our time fondly, for you will always be the brightest light in my life.<br/>All of my belongings, and the pieces left of me, belong to you, as it should be.<br/>Listen to Suzanne and think of me.<br/>I love you. I love you. I love you.<br/>I always will.<br/>Thank you for everything you have given me.<br/>-C.N.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Selling Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> And so the sequel is off without a hitch! I will try to post twice a week. Thank you to everyone for your continued support!

_My Dearest Deanna Winchester,_  
_When we met, I didn't think you were real._  
_You were too perfect, too godlike, too poetic and lovely._  
_Finally, when I was absolutely sure that you were as true as flesh and blood, my demons had to come and take me away from you._  
_Then, when I was finally able to come back into your life, truly be yours, and even fall in love with you, it happened again._  
_I don't know why, and it isn't fair, and believe me, I wish I could stay, love._  
_In fact, I want nothing more._  
_I have no doubt that the pain I will already have to endure will be worse now that I know I can't see you anymore._  
_I don't know why I have to leave you now that we were finally starting to trust each other again._  
_Remember our time fondly, for you will always be the brightest light in my life._  
_All of my belongings, and the pieces left of me, belong to you, as it should be._  
_Listen to Suzanne and think of me._  
_I love you. I love you. I love you._  
_I always will._  
_Thank you for everything you have given me._  
_-C.N._

* * *

 

 

 

  
Three years passed, and Deanna still refused to believe that Castiel had left of her own free will.  
The police had done what they could to help, but there really wasn't much of a case to begin with.  
Gabriel, Castiel's brother, had finally stopped searching a few months ago, and now she was all on her own.  
Her own brother was riding her ass about her "drinking problem" and her drug use and lack of sleep and caring for herself.  
"Why don't you come stay with me for a while?" Sam would say.  
"Sam, I'm fine." Deanna would say.  
"Can you at least go see someone? It'll help, Dee, I swear."  
"No."  
That conversation happened probably at least three times a week, and every week, Deanna said the same thing.  
She didn't want help.  
If this was the way she would die, then so be it.  
There was routine. There was work.  
There was the band. There were the worried looks from Jo, Anna and even Ruby.  
Then, there were the nightmares.  
Horrible, gruesome, retellings of what little Castiel had told her of what Crowley had done to her.  
Screaming and crying and clawing and running and falling.  
Deanna just woke up sweating and shaking, reaching for the woman she loved, only to find her much too large for her bed empty.  
Sometimes she didn't sleep.  
She didn't eat, she didn't even drink anything.  
Just stared, thinking, and listening to Suzanne over and over.  
There was the loneliness. There was the lock of hair that Castiel had left behind, and the letter she had written, and all her clothes, and everything else.  
Just little fragments.  
Her medication. Her CDs. Her eyeliner.  
All of it, once nothing more than material objects, were now Deanna's only salvation.  
There were hours spent staring at computer screens and newspaper articles.  
Any clue as to where Castiel might have gone.  
Still, all this time, and there was nothing.  
The first few days after Castiel had disappeared, there was denial.  
"She'll come back." Deanna would say to no one inparticular.  
Then, shortly after, there was shock.  
Then there was panic.  
Now there was nothing.  
Just a huge gaping hole in the center of her being, and a numbness that could not be broken with anything.  
Her music reflected that.  
The frustration. The desperation. The loneliness.  
The hours spent awake at night, just asking the same questions over and over again in her own head.  
"Righteous Riot" was becoming more and more popular.  
They played more shows, got paid more, and there were rumours of them getting sighed with a label.  
Deanna was nothing more than a hollowed out shell, and once, this progress, this success, would've made her glow with pride and happiness and satisfaction.  
Now it was only news.  
As if she was watching someone else's life on a faded television screen.  
Twenty Seven Years Old Now.  
Already dead.

* * *

  
It was sort of pathetic, but there was a Cas shrine in Deanna's apartment.  
In the corner of the bedroom, on a small nightstand, were a bunch of clothes in a neat pile, CD cases stacked together, a black lighter, a stick of eyeliner, a pill bottle, a mix CD that was set apart from the other disks, and a note that was folded and neatly placed on top of the clothes pile, and next to it was a photo booth picture and a lock of raven hair tied with a string.  
Maybe it wasn't supposed to be shrine, but it totally was one.  
Sam had no idea how to get his sister out of this rut.  
He didn't really think Castiel had been kidnapped, sure, maybe there was something else going on, but even if there were complications, Deanna couldn't help that.  
His sister's heart was too big, too loyal, too devoted. So much so that it hurt her, and sometimes everyone around her.  
Sam had tried to wait out the moping around, and crying oneself to sleep, but it never stopped.  
He tried being gentle with her, he tried talking to her, he tried distracting her with new things, he tried getting her to see someone professional, but she just wouldn't go.  
So, now Sam was taking drastic, sort of douchey, measures, simply because he didn't know what else to do.  
He gathered all of Castiel's things into a garbage bag, carefully, making sure not to break anything, and carried it with him out of Deanna's apartment and down to his car, where it set it gently in the back seat.  
Deanna was gonna be really fucking pissed off when she got home from work.

* * *

  
"SAM WHAT THE HELL?!!" was the first thing Deanna had screamed at him when he picked up the phone.  
So she knew it was him already, probably because he was the only person besides her that had a key to her apartment.  
"It's for your own good, and it's not forever. You can have it all back eventually."  
"That's breaking and entering asshole! AND STEALING!"  
"Two weeks of talking to a therapist, then it's yours again."  
"You're fucking kidding me. That's blackmail!"  
"Dee," Sam said with a sigh. "I just don't know what else to do at this point. I'm sorry. I just want you to get better."  
"Fine. I'll see the damn shrink. Will you get the hell off my back, then?" Deanna snapped.  
"Good Enough. I'll email you the info. Stay safe, big sis. I love you."  
Deanna hung up the phone.  
Great. This was going just awesome.

 

* * *

  
Dr. Singer was a highly recommended counselor, and was great with people of all ages, blah blah blah, Deanna didn't care.  
She was only doing this so she could get Cas's stuff back, and then that was it.  
She hated talking about her feelings, and she hated letting people boss her around, and goddammit, she was stubborn and she didn't like change.  
Deanna really hated everything.  
She was in the waiting room at Dr. Singer's office, texting Jo about how much she hated her brother.  
Jo would always listen to her complain.  
She was also texting Charlie Bradbury, Cas's best friend, who Deanna had grown much closer to since Cas had gone.  
They were talking about Star Trek, and of course, Cas.  
They were supporting each other through her absence.  
A door opened, and a gruff, middle-aged man in worn jeans and a baseball cap stepped into the room.  
Hey, at least he wasn't stuffy and overly professional.  
"Deanna Winchester?"  
"That's me." she said, getting up to stand eye to eye with the man.  
"Dr. Singer. Follow me."  
Deanna followed Dr. Singer through the door and down a short hallway.  
He motioned for her to step inside what was presumably his office.  
Inside, there was a wooden desk that looked sturdy and homemade, a big, expensive swirly chair, a big worn brown leather couch, various classic rock posters, family pictures, and to Deanna's surprise, no cheesy quotes or stupid paintings.  
Maybe this dude wasn't all bad.  
"Grab a seat." he said, sitting in the swirly chair across from her.  
She sunk into the couch with a sigh.  
"So, Deanna, it's Deanna right?"  
She nodded.  
"Your brother called me to make this appointment for you. He said you've been a stubborn asshole about getting some help. Why?"  
She groaned and crossed her legs, staring at the ground.  
"Well, for starters, the fact that Sam blackmailed me into this doesn't help my mood, but he's right in the sense that I haven't been hip to doing this since the first time he suggested it. I just don't like to talk about my feelings, and I don't like to be bossed around. Simple as that."  
"No one is gonna force you to talk about your feelings, ya idjit. This is all about fixing the problem the way you wanna fix it. Why don't you just start by telling me what's been going on lately, you say your brother blackmailed you into this?" Dr. Singer snarked, with the quirk of an eyebrow.  
Deanna ran a hand through her golden hair in frustration.  
"Alright, full disclosure. I'm bisexual and I prefer girls, just so you don't have to ask questions later. I met this girl about four years ago at a dance club. Right away we hit it off and started dating. Everything was great, really great actually, and I was having fun and was happier than I had been in a long time. I fell for her pretty hard, and she met Sam and she listened to my band play, and I never say this but everything was literally sunshine and puppies for a while. It wasn't perfect, but it was awesome." she explained, gruffly. "Then, her baggage came up. She was raped by this guy, many many times, and he totally screwed her up. She hadn't heard from him in years, until we were at a concert of mine and he showed up. She had a panic attack and ran out into the middle of a field and scared everyone half to death. After that, she was in rough shape, but she told me the whole story, and her brother, and her best friend and I were all keeping close tabs on her and making sure she was safe. Then she started getting really bad, she slept for a really long time and seemed to be giving up and she even ended up in the hospital. After that, we sort of started to fall apart. She wanted me to have sex with her, make her forget, but I didn't want to make it worse for her, so I said no, and in her screwy, fragile mental state she got so angry that she left before I could catch her. I didn't hear from her for two weeks, and I was a total disaster. Then, I saw her at a coffee shop, and we ended up talking and she had all these...shit...she had all these cuts on her arm and she was in a super poisonous living situation so I stowed my crap and made her live with me. We finally figured shit out and we sorta got back together and everything was awesome again, and then...the morning after she was just gone, she left all her stuff behind, and this really sad and vague letter and I just cannot not believe she left of her own free will, y'know. I know her, and it's just not right. I think she was forced to leave. I haven't stopped trying to find her, not really, I mean, I look at all these websites and I'm always keeping an eye out for her. I guess Sam is concerned because I drink a lot, and I don't really sleep, and I'm just not getting over the whole thing. He took all of the stuff she left behind away and said I couldn't have it back until I came to talk to you, so yeah."  
She looked up at him.  
Shit. She hadn't meant to say that much.

* * *

  
After a surprising progressive session with Dr. Singer, Deanna decided to make another appointment for next week.  
Her paycheck could handle it, and it wasn't like she really had anything better to do, so what the hell, right?  
Sam was just pleased as punch.  
Of fucking course the bitch was.  
Today, Deanna was going for coffee with Jo, and of course they were going to Barnes. The coffee house where everything seemed to happen.  
When she walked through the door, Pamela, the owner of the joint, gave her a hearty chuckle and asked her how she was.  
She lied of course, and ordered a latte, a slice of cherry pie, and went to find Jo in one of the booths along the far left wall.  
"Hey Princess, how's it going?" Jo Harvelle, Deanna's best friend, greeted her with a worried smile.  
She sighed as she sat down.  
"Same old, how 'bout you Jo?"  
"I'm fine. Sam told me about your appointment. How did it go?"  
"Sam is a fucking blabber mouth, but it went alright." she snarled.  
They talked about the band, and Jo's blossoming love life, and this and that for about an hour.  
Finally Deanna said goodbye to the other blonde, and headed out into the parking lot to find the Impala.  
On her way, she swore that for a millisecond, she saw what looked like Crowley, Castiel's rapist, get into a black Mercedes.  
The Mercedes drove away, and Deanna quickly got into her car, breathing heavily and trying not to claw off any of her skin.  
The calm she had felt over the past few days had vanished.  
Had she hallucinated that?  
She had never hallucinated anything before, except when she was drunk, but that didn't really count.  
What if that was Crowley?  
What did that mean?  
She drove home blasting "Feels Blind" by Bikini Kill, and as soon as she got through the door of her apartment and slammed and locked it behind her, she pulled out a bottle of whiskey.  
Deanna had been holding off for a while, and she couldn't take it anymore.  
She found Led Zeppelin IV in her CD collection, and turned up the stereo as loud as it would go.  
She sat on the kitchen floor, hugging her legs close to her body, and sipping whiskey until she fell asleep.

* * *

  
Deanna's cellphone woke her up the next morning.  
It was Ruby, probably the last person she wanted to hear from when she had a hangover.  
Or at all.  
Ruby was sort of a bitch.  
"What do you want?" she snarled.  
"Wooooahh. Somebody is hung over! I'm just calling to let you know we have a gig tonight. I was supposed to tell you a while ago, but I give no fucks, you know me." Deanna could hear the smirk in her voice.  
"You're a bitch."  
"Thanks babe. Love you too. But seriously Dee, Manchester Park, seven p.m. You better fucking be there."  
"Fine. I hate you."  
"Bye grumpy."  
Deanna hung up the phone and slowly dragged herself off the kitchen floor, into the shower, back out of the shower, and back into the kitchen to take an Asprin.  
Fuck life.

* * *

  
Deanna got in the car at six-thirty, dressed in a Lynard Skynard t-shirt, plaid mini-skirt, and black converse, leather jacket tied around her waist.  
She started up the Impala and drove across town to Manchester Park, where Ruby and Anna were already there setting up, along with some other bands that would be playing that night.  
She parked and as soon as Anna saw her, she rushed over to hug her.  
"Hi Deanna." the redhead said, grinning and stepping back a little.  
"Hey Anna. How've you been?"  
Anna was kind and adorable. She was the bassist in Deanna's band, Righteous Riot, and even though she didn't talk to her much outside of rehearsal, she though Anna was a really awesome person.  
Ruby stalked over, clad in ripped black jeans and a tight red half-shirt. The classic bitchy drummer look, Deanna was sure.  
"You're late, Winchester." she growled.  
"You. told. me. seven." Deanna stated.  
"It's seven o' six!"  
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, DEVIL WOMAN?!"  
"Girls!" Anna said, kind but firm. "No fighting. At least wait until Jo gets here before you try to kill each other!"  
Ruby instantly backed off, her expression softening.  
Her crush on Anna was extremely obvious, but Deanna wasn't going to say anything about it because even she didn't hate Ruby that much.  
A few minutes later Jo appeared, and they got ready for sound check.

 

* * *

  
The first song they played was a cover of "Fault Lines." originally by Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. The next three were originals Deanna had written. Angry songs about pain and loss that really got the crowd going.  
At the end of the show, a boy with long shaggy hair and loose jeans asked her if she wanted to "get outta here."  
"What the hell." was her response. "Why not?"

* * *

  
The next week at Dr. Singer's, Deanna was a mess.  
"I had sex with some random idiot. That's the first time in three years. It wasn't even good. I just felt awful and disgusting afterwards. What the hell is wrong with me?"  
Dr. Singer was quiet for a few beats.  
"I wouldn't say there's anything wrong with you, besides the fact that you're an idjit."  
"Gee, thanks."  
"Let me finish, kid. I think in your shitty emotional state, you're just not very good at making decisions. Doesn't mean you're a bad person, or even that you've got screws loose, just means you need to think a little harder about making decisions. Now you know this is something you oughta be careful about, more power to ya."  
She sighed.  
"Yeah I guess you're right. I just feel so gross."  
"Take a shower."  
Deanna rolled her eyes, but she went home and took a shower after the session, and she actually felt surprisingly better.  
She put on some Fleetwood Mac, took a nap, and dreamed about Cas under flashing lights with a smile on her face.  
She woke up with tears in her eyes.


	2. To Know Me As Hardly Golden

Sam was making his weekly, "Let's make sure my sister isn't trying to kill herself" visit to Deanna's apartment, and this time, he was bringing his longtime girlfriend Jess with him.  
Jess and Deanna got along famously, and he thought seeing her would put his sister in a better mood.  
He knocked on her apartment door, and waited a few beats until he heard foot steps approaching the front walk, Jess standing next to him.  
Deanna opened the door, in a solid gray t-shirt and worn jeans, her hair was wet from a shower, she smelled clean, and she looked healthy.  
At the very least, he was glad she wasn't drunk.  
She grinned at the sight of Sam and Jess standing a little too close together.  
"You brought the wife!" she chuckled.  
"We're not even married, Dee." Sam said, eyeing his girlfriend, who only laughed.  
"You might as well be." his sister said, stepping aside to let them into the apartment.  
Upon entering her dwelling, Sam made a note of the fact that it was relatively clean, aside from the disastrous mess on CDs on the living room floor, but that was to be expected.  
It smelled like cigarettes inside, but not booze, so that was a good sign.  
Jess flopped down on the couch and turned on Keeping Up With The Kardashian's, her favorite guilty pleasure show. Coming to Deanna's was always a treat for her, because they didn't have cable at there house.  
Sam followed his sister into the kitchen, eyeing her wrists to check for cuts or burns.  
He was never sure how far she would go.  
There were no whiskey or vodka bottles out on the counters, but she probably put those away ahead of time.  
"Beer, Sammy?" he heard his sister say mockingly.  
"Deanna!"  
"Jesus Christ you can't take a joke. Coffee it is. Should I make some for Jess, too?"  
"Sure, I'm sure Jess needs more caffeine in her life."  
Deanna laughed and got to work setting the coffee pot up.  
He watched her for a while.  
"So...how are you doing, Dee?"  
She made an annoyed sound, turning to him.  
"I'm fine, Sam. I'm not great, but I'm hanging in there. I'm going to Dr. Singer's every week and I only drink when I really have to."  
Well, that was honestly better than he expected.  
"That's good."  
"Don't think I forgot about Cas's stuff, bitch. It's been three weeks. I did what you said, and I'll keep doing it without the blackmail. I'm a big girl."  
"I didn't think you forgot, the stuff is in the car, Jerk. I was just wondering how long it'd be before you asked about it. I'm glad you're getting help. That's all I wanted."  
Deanna raised her eyebrows in a "really?" look, but went back to making coffee.  
Sam went into the living room to tackle Jess on the couch.

* * *

  
Not that she couldn't survive without it, but Deanna was really glad to have Cas's stuff back.  
It reminded her that the woman she loved was real, and that the time they had together was more than just pain and heartache, it was hilarious and warm and full of love, as well.  
It made all the hardships worth it.  
She wore Castiel's most loved black hoodie to work at the auto shop that day.  
It still smelled like her.  
She played her mix CD in the car on the way home, smoking Camel menthol's and feeling spiritually closer to Cas than she had in a while.  
While she was stable, the maybe-hallucination of Crowley was fresh in her mind.  
When she told Dr. Singer about it, he had simply said there would be no way to tell if it was a hallucination or not until she just waited out more proof, and he was right.  
It didn't make it easier, though.

* * *

  
That weekend, Jo was having a get together at her house.  
She had invited everyone from the band, Sam and Jess, and Charlie and Gilda, and well as some other people that Deanna didn't know well.  
It was in celebration of getting signed with Warner Brother's, and everybody was damn proud of each other.  
Righteous Riot was finally a real thing.  
It always had been, to them, but now it would be to the world of music, as well.  
There would be beer, and pizza, and lots of food.  
Deanna was determined to have at least one drink, but not to get carried away, no matter how many worried looks Sam gave her.  
She found herself on Jo's massive couch, with a beer in her hand, chatting with Charlie and Gilda.  
Gilda was Charlie's girlfriend, and she was distant and fairy-like, and seemed to float above them.  
She was beautiful, and Deanna could totally see what Charlie saw in her, but she also sort of thought Charlie could do better.  
Gilda was kind of mean, if she was being completely honest.  
There were people dancing and laughing, and the atmosphere was all very warm.  
Deanna was actually having a good time.  
It helped that Sam wasn't watching her like a hawk, for once.  
It wasn't fair. Deanna was the elder sibling. It was her job to be annoying and worried.  
Finally, she could relax without feeling suffocated by him.  
The night went on in blurs of stories and laughter.  
Eventually Deanna needed a cigarette, and she stepped outside on Jo's front porch.  
She sat on the steps, and listened to the faded sounds of the party, and the crickets chirping in the grass.  
They reminded her of her childhood, and living out in the country with her mom and dad and Sammy.  
Both good and bad memories.  
Hell, her whole life was one huge mixed bag.  
She looked out into the night and sighed.  
Things always got better, only to get worse again, and vice versa.  
Why Castiel had gone away, she might never know.  
The universe could take and take from you, and you would never know when you'd be rewarded for all of your heart-ships.  
These thoughts were taking Deanna down a dangerous road, so she went back inside.

* * *

  
It was that next Thursday that things started to spiral down again.  
Deanna was driving back from work, when she saw Crowley by the side of the road, leaning up against the same black Mercedes as before.  
They made eye contact for only a split second, and she felt her entire body grow cold.  
She wondered if that was anything close to the feeling Castiel got upon seeing someone who had destroyed her so.  
Now could she say that Crowley was real? Or could this also be a hallucination?  
Was there anyway to tell?  
His eyes followed her throughout the week.  
To her next show, to work, to Dr. Singer's.  
She stared at the empty, white ceiling in her bedroom, on late nights, smoking so many cigarettes she made herself dizzy.  
Her mind was a ghost town.


	3. I Don't Want It, But I Need It

Castiel awoke to the freezing cold.

It was raining, and shivers racked her body as the water pelted her very being.

She slowly began to prop herself up on her elbows.

How did she get outside in the first place?

Everything hurt, and she could feel blood leaking from her veins in at least five different places.

Fuck.

Where was she?

The world around her was stark with the colors of night.

She seemed to be in a ditch near the side of the road.

What road?

What town?

What state?

Castiel mustered her strength and was able to rise to her knees.

She checked for a cell phone, wallet, or anything that might give her some answers.

She then discovered that she wasn't wearing a shirt, or bra, and the only thing covering her was a tiny plaid skirt.

Of course.

Then where was Crowley?

Castiel discovered a large wound in the middle of her stomach.

That wasn't a good sign.

If she stayed out in the rain like this, she was going to die.

With enough luck, and multiple tries, she was able to stand.

She covered her chest with her arms and looked around.

She was in a small town, and the shapes around her looked mildly familiar.

Castiel stood across from a few shops, but no lights were on, and she couldn't exactly see where she was going.

She took a few steps, hoping to find some sign of civilization, or a person, or something.

Someone who could point her in the direction of the hospital, or maybe lend her a shirt or something.

She swore quietly.

Castiel was weak, she was barefoot, she was bleeding.

She walked down the street for a few beats, looking around in the dark wildly, as her vision began to leave her.

She was so fucking dizzy.

God, when was the last time she had eaten anything?

"Hey!"  
Someone was calling to her, but they sounded far away.

She let herself fall to the ground, and succumb to the black.  


 

* * *

 

 

Pamela Barnes expected to see a lot of things on a rainy night, as she was closing up the cafe.

People running for shelter, bikers with flashing lights, couples walking with umbrellas.

What she wasn't expecting, was a soaked to the bone, bleeding, shirtless girl wobbling down the street.

"Hey!" Pamela called out.

Maybe she could help. She had an empty couch, and a hot shower, and clothes.

She really wouldn't mind sharing. The girl looked starved and miserable.

Also, maybe she could drive the woman to a hospital, now that she was closer and could see there was a bleeding wound on her abdomen.

She collapsed into a heap on the pavement, and Pamela was able to catch her just before her head hit the pavement.

 "Shit!" she said, picking the disturbingly light young woman up in her arms and walking back to the entrance of the cafe, where she unlocked the door with one hand and brought them both inside.

She turned on the lights and sat the girl down on one of the bar stools, still supporting her with one hand.

"Jesus H. Christ."

It was Castiel.

 

* * *

 

When Castiel felt consciousness rise once more, the first thing she heard was a consistent beeping.

She opened her eyes and was surprised to find she was in a hospital.

The last thing she remembered was passing out in the middle of the street.

If she was here, that meant someone had brought her here.

The hospital room was vaguely familiar, like she had been there before, but then again, every hospital room sort of looks the same.

She had to stop waking up in hospitals after passing out.

It was becoming a habit.

Where was Crowley?

Why had he suddenly decided to leave her in bleeding in a ditch?

Did she miss him?

Fuck no.

He had been her only normal for the past three years, so, she simply wondered why things had changed.

He had been a nightmare, but he had been a constant.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, a Doctor came in to let her know that she had been patched up and was now in stable condition.

He questioned her on what had happened, and she simply answered with; "I can't remember."

Because, really, she couldn't.

She didn't remember being stabbed in the stomach.

She didn't remember being dumped by the side of the road.

She asked him where she was.

"Lebanon, Kansas. The Emergency room."

Hold the fucking phone.

Lebanon?

Deanna lived here.

Or at least, she used to.

Castiel used to live here too.

So did Charlie, and Sam, and Meg, and Jo, and Anna, and Ruby.

Barnes Cafe.

The Record Store.

The Park.

Deanna's Apartment.

Everything came rushing back.

 

* * *

  
Castiel slept for the rest of the day.

When she awoke next, she found Pamela Barnes sitting in a chair next to her hospital bed.

She jumped in surprise.

"Woah, woah. Castiel. Honey. It's alright." she said softly.

"What are you doing here?"

Pam sighed.

"I found you. You were right outside the cafe. I didn't know who you were at first, but as soon as I did, I rushed you here."

Castiel took a deep breath and nodded.

"Castiel, how did you end up here?" she asked.

"I don't know. I woke up in a ditch by the side of the road. I don't remember how. Maybe Crowley got tired of me."

"So, you didn't leave Deanna by choice, then?" Pamela seemed to perk up.

Castiel was overwhelmed. There was too much going on at once.

"God, no. You didn-"

"No. I haven't told anyone that you're here, but they're releasing you today and I brought you some clothes to borrow. Black. Since I remember you used to wear a lot of that." Pamela gave her a worried smile. "I also wanted to check in."

"Thank you so much, Pamela. I'm alive, thanks to you." she said quietly.

"Don't worry about it sugar." she comforted. "If you need a place to stay, you're welcome at mine."

Castiel nodded, and Pam got up to leave.

They didn't know each other very well, so there wasn't much to talk about.

"Take care of yourself, little lady. Put some meat on those bones, and come by the cafe when you can."

"I will, Pamela. Thank you."

"Of course." she said, and turned to leave. "Oh, and Castiel?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"She hasn't forgotten about you."

* * *

 

Castiel was released with a meal plan, since they assumed she was starving herself, because she was so thin, and some pain medication for the stitches on her stomach.

 

She put on Pam's clothes, which was a grey t-shirt, black jeans and a black hoodie, perfect for the mild autumn weather.

 

She wasn't sure what to expect.

 

Was Crowley going to come back for her, or had he grown tired of her?

 

She didn't think he would leave her to her own devices this long if he was still interested.

 

So, she figured she should use her freedom, however small, to call her brother, and maybe Charlie.

 

Would she seek out Deanna?

 

She wasn't sure.

 

She wanted nothing more than to run to her apartment and pound on the door, but who knows if she even lived there anymore.

 

Would Deanna want to see her?

 

Had she hurt Deanna badly enough to ruin their affection for each other?

 

It had been three years, almost four now.

 

Would it even matter?

 

Pamela had left her twenty dollars, as well as the clothes, and her phone number.

 

Not that she wanted to take the elder women's money, but it certainly did come in handy.

 

She went to a gas station, and bought a few things to eat and one of those cheap draw string bags to carry her things in.

 

She used some leftover change for the pay phone, and prayed that Gabriel hadn't changed his number.

 

Castiel dialed and held the phone up to her ear, waiting in morbid anticipation as it rung.

 

What would it be like to hear his voice?

 

What would it be like not to hear his voice?

 

She was already falling apart.

 

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice answered.

 

"Um," she stammered. "Is Gabriel Novak there? It-It's important."

 

"Hold on one second, dear, he's in the kitchen, I'll get him to come in here." the strange man said, in a thick British accent. "Gabe there's someone on the phone for you!"

 

There were rustling sounds.

 

Castiel's heart sped up.

 

"Hello? This is Gabriel."

 

She would know that voice anywhere.

 

"H-Hi, Gabe. It's Castiel."


	4. People You've Been Before

Gabriel was having a panic attack.

Balthazar knew he wouldn’t admit it, but his husband’s legs and arms were shaking as he paced in their professionally decorated kitchen.

“I have to go and get her now.”

“Gabe, sweetheart.” Balthazar said, gently. “It’ll take six hours in a car. It’s very dark and you wouldn’t be there until the morning anyway. Why not just wait until tomorrow?”

“Because, Bal,” Gabriel snapped. “She’s my baby sister. I thought she was dead, and I don’t know what will happen if she gets left alone too long. I need to see her. I need to know that she’s safe. I need to leave right now.”

“Fine.” Blue eyes regarded Hazel ones dangerously. “But then I’m coming with you.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel wandered the streets in the dark, fear sitting permanently in her bones.

She could not stay in one place.

Sure, she could go to Pamela Barnes house, and stay the night there, but she would only be restless.

She wouldn't sleep, so it was easier to stay awake.

Castiel walked through Lebanon’s city park, and downtown, and anywhere she knew.

Most of the shops were closed by now.

She wandered into a Wallgreens. She had a few dollars left, and she figured she could buy herself something to eat or drink.

She strolled down the aisles, mind moving somewhere far above the small convenience store.

Castiel found herself in the cooler aisle, and picked a ninety nine cent iced tea.

She was probably dehydrated, but she was bored of water.

The tea would be a treat she hadn’t had in a long time.

Since before Crowley had taken her away, actually.  
As she turned around, she saw someone she certainly wasn’t expecting to see.

Sam Winchester, standing just a few feet away from her, clutching a gallon of milk in one hand, gaping.

“Castiel!?”

He looked exactly the same.

Long, floppy dark hair, giant limbs, and puppy dog eyes.

She knew she had no reason to be afraid of him, but she felt herself tense up anyway.

“Hello, Sam.” she whispered, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What are you-what?!” he was staring, mouth not quite working.

“It’s been a long time…”

Sam said nothing. He only stared at her.

“I- Wait. It’s been three years and suddenly you just appear back in Lebanon? You broke my sisters heart you know. If you left, why come back?”

She sighed.

“I didn’t come back willingly. And I’m sorry. I’m not here to cause trouble. I’ll be gone by morning.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t come here willingly?!”

She was already turning around to pay for her drink and leave.

Of course she would run into Sam.

He followed her out of the store, asking more questions, and sounding both concerned and pissed off.

“Castiel, I’m serious. I want to know why you ruined my sister’s life! I want to know right now!”

She turned around, a furious expression, stark, across her delicate features.

 

“I didn’t, Sam! I would never had left if I had any choice in the matter! I woke up bleeding in a ditch the other day, here. I have had no control over anything in my life for the past three years and I guess Crowley either thought I was dead or got bored and dumped me here! I’m sorry your sister was effected, but there is nothing I can do about that now!!”

She turned around and stalked off, leaving Sam Winchester gaping in the pitch black night.

 

* * *

 

Castiel needed to leave this town as soon as possible.

There were too many choices.

Too many ghosts.

Overwhelmed with her new found freedom, she wasn’t sure what she might do.

She had already run into Sam, what if she had a run in with the other Winchester?

She didn’t know how that would go.

She didn’t even know if she’d want that.

Would Deanna want that?

Had Castiel truly ruined her life?

And what about Crowley? Would there be more running from herself and her nightmares?

Had she just grown numb to it all?

She hated the questions. The endless questions.

The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 

* * *

 

Gabriel and Balthazar pulled into Lebanon at about seven the next morning.

Gabe, as sleep deprived as he was, practically jumped out of the car, shaking with nerves.

Castiel had agreed to wait for him in the park, and now that’s where they were, parked across the street.

Balthazar put a firm hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“Gabe. You need to calm down.” he said, softly.

“Calm down?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW?”

Gabriel shook his hand off, and stalking away, ahead of Balthazar.

He sighed.

He hoped this “Castiel” was worth all of his husband’s strife.


	5. Every Hour Of Fear

It was a bad night.

Ever since Deanna had gotten home, she had this weird feeling in her chest.

Vibrations, almost.

She paced around her apartment.

She drank.

She smoked.

She didn’t sleep.

When the morning came, there was no relief.

There was only the light that filtered through her windows every day.

She stared out to the empty streets.

Something had changed.

 

* * *

 

Deanna had an appointment with Dr. Singer that afternoon, so that was her reason to get up and take a shower, and wash the smell of liquor and cigarettes from her skin.

She pulled on some worn light wash jeans, her Fleetwood Mac shirt, and Cas’ black hoodie, and got in the Impala.

Her Best Of Stevie NIcks mix played softly as she drove to the counselor's office.

She was in an odd mood.

One of those days where nothing is solid and everything is surreal.

In which you feel as though you are floating above yourself.

Watching a movie of your life.

Feeling someone else’s emotions.

Something in the weather. Something in the air, that made everything far away.  
It was days like this that made her want to die.

It wasn’t the pain. It wasn’t the nightmares.

It wasn’t missing Cas, because at least those were feelings.

At least that was something.

It reminded her that she was alive.

That she was still living, and that the emptiness Castiel had left behind proved that she existed once.

No.

It was the numbness that killed her.

She talked to Dr. Singer about all these things.

He asked her why she thought she was getting worse again, if there was anything that could have set her off.

She looked at him, cold, green, empty eyes wide and deep like a dark forest.

“This is going to sound insane, but I feel like somehow Cas is closer.”

Dr. Singer raised an eyebrow.

“Are you saying you can feel her? Sense her?”

“I have no fucking idea, Doc, but something is certainly off today. That’s the only way I have of describing it.” She said, running her fingers through her still damp hair.

“Oh no, Deanna,” Dr. Singer said, adjusting his position in his office chair. “I’m just trying to get what you’re saying, that’s all. Making sure I understand.”

“Right.” Deanna said, nodding, although she knew he thought she was going even more insane than she presently was.

“That’s interesting. So, what if Cas was here, in town? What would that mean for you?”

She had to think about that one.

How would she feel, if she could see Cas, right now?

Well first off, she’d be relieved, that the woman she loved was alive, and physically alright.

But what else?

“I guess,” she stared the hardwood floor of the office. “I’d be glad to know that she was alive, and I’d be happy to be breathing the same air as her again. I’d want to tell her that I missed her, so much, and that she matters. She had a huge impact on my life. Then, if she wanted to talk, I’d wanna talk. What would happen beyond that, well, it would depend on Cas.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if she was anything like the Castiel Novak I’d known before. If we could still connect. If I would still matter to her. And, ultimately, if she would still be willing to try.”

“I think that’s a very mature response, Deanna Winchester.” Dr. Singer said, fatherly and yet a bit condescending, in that psycho eval way. “A few months ago, I think you would’ve said something else entirely. You’ve grown. That’s a great sign.”

Deanna blushed and fidgeted with her hair.

“Thanks Doc.”

“Hey kid, you did all the work. I just twiddled my thumbs and listened, and oh yeah, I sometimes told you if you were being stupid.”

They grinned at each other.

“Now get outta my office, Winchester!”

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Sam called.

“Hey Sammy, how’s it hanging?” she snarked.

Her session with Dr. Singer had actually helped her mood quite a bit.

“Hey Dee. I’m alright. I’m just, uh, checking in.”

“You sound weird.” she could read him like a book. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I can tell you now. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Deanna narrowed her eyes.

“I’d prefer you’d not keep things from me. Especially when you tell me you’re keeping things from me, but at least you’re upfront about it. Are you okay, Sam?”

“I’m fine. I promise I’m not in any danger.”

“Good.”

“Well, I just wanted to check in quick, so…”

“Alright.” she sighed. “Say hi to Jess for me.”

“Will do. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Well, that didn’t help the weird, surreal vibes of the day.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, as soon as Deanna had convinced herself that it was all in her head, something had to come along and prove to her that it wasn’t.

She got a call from Gabriel Novak.

As in Castiel Novak’s brother.

As in the one she hadn’t heard from in nearly a year.

As in, what the actual fuck.

“Hey Dean-o.”

“Since when do you call me that, and what’s up Gabriel? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“It’s truly been too long. So hey, listen, me and the hubby are in town, and we wanted to know if you’d like to grab lunch tomorrow.”

“Um, sure, that sounds fine. Where?”

“Pam’s around noon sound good?”

Deanna felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.

“Sure, good to hear from you. See you then?”

“Awesome. Byeee.”

He hung up.

Deann sunk to the floor of her apartment, dropping her phone.

What was going on?


	6. Sinful Hips and Secret Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes evil plans aren't really all that evil

“Gabe, darling. This is an evil plan and you know it. What if they don’t even want to see each other?”

Balthazar and Gabriel were in a hotel room they had for the next few days.

Castiel had stayed with them last night, and now she was in the bathroom getting ready to go to lunch with them at Barnes Cafe.

Gabriel had made this elaborate plan to reunite Deanna and his baby sister, and was just now telling his husband about it.

“It may be evil,” Gabriel whispered harshly. “but I need to see my sister happy again, and this is the way to do that. I’m overjoyed that she’s physically alright, but she’ll never be a hundred percent until she’s back with her big gay soulmate or whatever.”

“I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through enough, sweetheart.”

“It’ll have to be good enough, and if it’s not, well I’ll just have to try again.”

Balthazar sighed.

His husband was a ridiculous, impulsive child.

Although, he supposed that was why he married him in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stared at herself in the hotel’s fogged bathroom mirror.

It had been a long while since she had seen the way she looked.

She was thinner, than she last remembered.

More pale, too.

Her dark hair was a startling contrast against her almost white complexion and ocean eyes.

It was, well, ghostly, and surreal, to say the least.

She was malnourished, and generally not mentally all there.

She knew that. She knew it was worrisome.

She knew Gabriel was concerned, and he wouldn’t stop being concerned.

Castiel was extremely glad to see him again.

When he pulled into town, and they saw each other, they hugged for a full five minutes, both of them sobbing in relief at the sight of the other.

Yet, this was not her port in the storm.

She only felt that now, she was a burden on her brother, and her brother-in-law.

She couldn’t believe Gabriel was married.

Although, she had been gone a long time.

Maybe she didn’t know her brother as well as she used to.

And what about Sam Winchester?

Ever since she had seen him, she couldn’t stop thinking about Deanna.

Where was she? Was she alright? What did she look like, now? What was she doing?

An endless stream of questions that had no answers.

If she asked her brother about the elder Winchester, what would he say?

Probably nothing good.

Probably nothing Castiel wanted to hear.

She finished getting dressed, in the same jeans she had worn yesterday, and Gabriel’s neutral colored t-shirt and grey and white flannel.

Lunch at Barnes Cafe.

It would be nice to see Pamela again. She needed to thank her. She needed to repay her.

Would the place look any different?

 

* * *

 

 

Deanna pulled into the Barnes Cafe parking lot at around eleven forty-five.  
She had a weird feeling.

It’s not as if she thought Gabe and Bal were gonna like, try to kill her or anything.

There was, well, just something off about everything.

She got out of the Impala, running a hand through her hair in concern and tucking her cell phone and wallet into her jean pockets, before heading into the Cafe.

When she got inside, Pam gave her an odd smile.

“Hey Winchester. Wasn’t expecting to see you around these parts. You haven’t been around in a while.”

“Hey Pam. Sorry. You know how it is.”

“No problem kid.”

She ordered a coffee and situated herself at the corner she always sat in, hoping that Gabriel and Balthazar wouldn’t be long.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel, Balthazar, and Castiel parked in the street in front of the Cafe, because Gabe couldn’t risk Castiel seeing the Impala out back and ruining his plans.

They all got out of the car.

“Sis, head inside. I have to talk to the hubby about something for a sec. We’ll catch up.”

She rolled her eyes at the word “hubby” and headed up to the entrance of the cafe.

Balthazar glared at him.

“What?!” Gabriel threw up his hands.

“You’re incorrigible. Always scheming like a bloody weasel.”

“It’s really one of my greatest talents, among other things.” Gabe winked.

Balthazar sighed.

 

* * *

 

  
Castiel approached the counter, and regarded Pamela with a shy smile.

She looked-well, surprised to see her.

Not a good sort of surprised.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, Castiel, everything’s fine. What can I get you?”

“I think just a coffee, until my brother and his husband are done making out in the parking lot.”

“Ew.”

She got her coffee, and automatically turned the corner and headed for her usual corner spot.

All of the air left her body at once.

Golden hair.

Freckled Skin.

Forest green eyes.

Soft curves.

Perfectly sculpted features.

Rose colored lips.

It had been so long.

But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She looked exactly the same, at least, from where Castiel was standing, frozen, in the middle of the cafe.

Sparkling emerald suddenly poured into her.

Deanna Winchester was looking at her, again.

So much time had passed, and that gaze could still turn her into a sniffling child in a second.

“Cas!?”


	7. You Go Into The Dusty Pink Day

 

 

It was in that moment, that time froze.

Deanna knew she had to be dreaming.

That she had to be making this up.

Castiel was standing only a few feet away from her, looking thin, and pale, and distraught and terrified, but so very real.

So very alive.

Her dark hair was wild around her face, the way it always was, twisting and turning in all different directions.

Weary ocean blue eyes were bright against her complexion.

She was dressed in blacks and grays, and clutching a coffee mug in one hand.

If this was just a dream, she might as well take advantage of it.

“Cas?!” escaped her mouth before Deanna could think the decision through anymore.

Castiel just stood there, blinking and astonished.

Deanna got up, moving slowly, with purpose.

Then, Castiel took a breath, and turned around, exiting the Cafe in a few steps.

Deanna was right behind her.

 

* * *

 

The taste of fear was bitter in Castiel’s mouth.

How was it that she ran into Deanna?

How could this even be possible?

She was walking fast, letting her feet carry her where they’d like to go.

Far away.

Far away from the guilt, and the shame and the longing.  
The hurt she had caused the woman she loved.

Then, there was resistance.

Like a warm, soft noose tied around one’s neck.

She turned around to find Deanna Winchester, gripping her hand and staring her down with a desperation in her forest green eyes.

“Are you real?” she whispered.

Castiel sighed.

“Yes, I like to think so. Are you?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was, but now I don’t know. Why are you running away?”

“Because I hurt you, and I’m a coward.” Castiel stared at the ground.

Deanna slowly dropped her hand.

“Cas, it wasn’t your fault. You have to know that. I don’t resent you for that at all.”

“You should! You shouldn’t just sit there and let me throw your heart around like that! You’re so fucking selfless and throughout all of this you still don’t blame me for any of it! I haven’t seen you in three years and you’re still the same person!”

“Just-Just let me ask you this, did you leave because you wanted to leave?”

“No. No of course I didn’t.”

“Then obviously you’ve been hurt, and you’ve been suffering, just as much as I have. Probably much more. So what is there to be angry about?”

Castiel raised her eyes back to Deanna’s.

They stared for what seemed like an eternity.

“I missed you so much.”

Then, Castiel was wrapped around Deanna like a glove, holding for dear life and both of them tried to contain all the emotions that were leaking out.

On the street across from Barnes Cafe, in an empty parking lot, Castiel Novak could feel a piece of herself coming back, after so many years.

And in the overwhelming swell of the moment, there was nothing more than the warmth of the woman she loved.

The way she smelled, the way she felt, and the sound of her breathing.

The future didn’t matter.

The past didn’t matter.

For those seconds, there was nothing but the two of them.

It couldn’t stay that way for long.

There were things to sort out.

Discussions to be had.

Castiel had things to face.

In both herself, and in others.

For now though, she was back in Deanna’s arms.

That was all there was.


	8. From The Words That We Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puzzle pieces and uneasy feelings

Everything was surreal.

After her brief, and strange encounter with the real life Castiel, she had to go back to work.

Her head was spinning, and she wasn’t focused on what she was doing at all.

She asked herself if what happened earlier had been real.  
If Castiel had really been there.

She couldn’t find an answer.

She had left Castiel standing in that empty parking lot, because she needed to go to work, but the other woman had said nothing more than:

“Goodbye Deanna.”

Deanna wondered if Gabriel and Balthazar knew that Castiel was going to be there, if she was at all.

Now there was no proof.

No way to be sure Deanna would see her again.

Her uncle, Gordon, who owned the auto shop, told her that she either had to get her head out of her ass, or go home.

So she went home.

She paced around her apartment.

She drank.

She smoked.

She panicked.

She told herself she was crazy.

She asked herself if Cas was ever real to begin with.

She questioned reality.

She wondered about the purpose of life.

Finally, Deanna called Sam.

“Hey Dee, what’s up?” her younger brother answered, happily.

“Sam. I saw Cas today.”

There was silence for a few beats.

“Goddammit.” he finally said.

“What do you mean, “Goddammit.”? What’s going on? Something is weird here. I felt her. I touched her. She has to be real. I’m not making it up this time!”

“Look, Deanna, you’re not crazy. I saw her the other day-”

“AND YOU DIDN’T THINK IT’D BE A GOOD IDEA TO TELL ME?”

“She told me she’d be leaving town! Besides, you were just starting to get better!”

“Cas is not what fucked me up. Crowley taking her away from me is what fucked me up.”

“Deanna-”

“No. You’re being an asshole. I’m done talking to you. Bye Sam.”

Deanna hung up the phone and sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel was buying Castiel an apartment in Lebanon.

Against her will, at that.

He was buying her new clothes, new furniture, and therapy, as well.

Also, he and Balthazar were moving there.

When questioned about his decisions, he simply said:

“I have a lot of money,” and shrugged.

His husband seemed unfazed by this, and simply gave Castiel a knowing look.

She was sort of hoping Balthazar would be on her side with this one.

There goes that plan.

Castiel didn’t even know if she wanted to stay here.

Well, maybe that wasn’t right.

She knew she wanted to stay here, but she didn’t know if it was a good idea.

Everything still seemed to only be temporary, and no matter where she was, nothing felt solid.

But, if there was one thing she knew about her brother, it was that he was stubborn.

Plus, it’s not like she had anywhere to go.

She wanted to talk to Deanna, but she didn’t know how.

Both in the regards that she didn’t have her phone number or contact info, and she didn’t know what she would say.

She thought about asking Gabriel for it, but instead, she asked him for Charlie’s phone number, desperate to finally talk to her best friend again.

She paced around her still empty new apartment, listening to the phone ring.

Finally, she sucked in a breath of relief when Charlie picked up the phone.

“Hello?” the familiar, happy voice chirped.

Good.

She was glad to know what Charlie was still the same Charlie, even without Castiel around.

“Hi Charlie. It’s Castiel.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“This is a really mean prank.”

“No, I mean it. It’s me. I woke up here in town about a week ago. I think, uh- he got sick of me.”

“I swear, if you’re shitting me.”

“Please Charlie. Give it a chance. Come have coffee with me. I miss you. I need to see my best friend again. Being back is so weird and surreal, and- this would be so much better with your support.”

“Fine. If this ends up being a hoax, someone is literally going to die, I mean it this time. Where and when?”

 

* * *

 

Castiel looked herself over in the mirror for a fourth time that morning.

She was too thin, and too pale.

If her stomach was bare, you could see her ribs, just like that.

She was wearing one of her new dresses, it was dark blue, and loose fitting, in the hopes of making her seem less stick-thin than she was.

She closed her eyes, letting the flashbacks fade to the back of her mind.

Castiel didn’t need that right now.

She lit a cigarette, and left the house.

 

* * *

 

 

Charlie looked the same as ever.

Shining in severe bright colors, bright red hair falling at loose shoulder length curls.

She was looking at Castiel in astonishment.

They had, of course, met at Pam’s, and now she was complaining about how people needed to stop having dramatic reunions in her cafe.

They didn’t hear her.

Charlie didn’t even say anything.

She just rushed up to Castiel and collected her into a back-breaking hug.

“I am so sorry honey. “ she finally said. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I’m so glad you’re back.”

Castiel let out a huge breath of air.

This is where she belonged.

Charlie had always been her one stable, consistent support.

Now she was back with her family.


End file.
